Squish, Squash, Smash
by OG Procupine
Summary: Deep within the depths of Octo Valley, a baby Inkling is brought to the Octobot King.
1. Chapter 1

It took a lot to startle DJ Octavio.

It's not like he was putting on a false bravado for his vassals; there just seriously wasn't anything that could really surprise a veteran of the Great Turf Wars. A sudden scare was like a sudden change in music—it had about the same impact on him, too.

So it was only because Octavio was so level-headed that he was able to completely control his expression when two of his highest-ranking Octolings brought to him a baby Inkling boy.

 **Splatatatatatatatatatasplatoon~**

"READY WEAPONS!"

Inkling Scum (or to those who didn't completely hate his guts, just Scum) lifted his Octoshot to aim at the squid-shaped target. It was designed to simulate an actual moving Inkling, with a smaller-than-usual bulls-eye to condition an Octarian's aim. To his sides, thirty others did the same.

"BEGIN FIRE!"

At the instructor's call, Inkling Scum and his class of trainee Octolings fired a barrage of shots at the fake squids. They were only allowed to fire three shots from this range—the base number of hits to splat that the Octoshot needed to do its job.

"CEASE FIRE!"

Inkling Scum shook himself out of his battle trance and appraised his target. Father would be proud; he had shot the squid's bulls-eye with impeccable accuracy, even adjusting for the error of his gun. The squid itself was immaculate but for a single stain of ink on its weak point. There was no runoff either; Inkling Scum had been taught from a very young age never to waste a drop of ink.

"Present yourselves by rank for evaluation!" the instructor (a Twintacle who had fought in the Great War) all but shouted to the class.

Inkling Scum immediately took his place at the front of the nascent line. It was simply a matter of course to do so; he was a battle genius, after all. Even though he had never experienced a Turf War (the Octarian kind) in his life, his movements, efficiency, aim, and tactical sense were all top-notch.

The Twintacle Octarian, mustache bobbing up and down as he spoke, began to announce their scores. "Viola, accuracy 77 percent! Rosa, accuracy 80 percent! Jaune, accuracy 81 percent! Schwartz, accuracy..."

The names and the corresponding scores tumbled down on the Octolings. Many became a bit dejected, especially those at the bottom of the rankings. Octarians didn't train weaklings to be in the army, and those who couldn't match up would have to abandon their military prospects. Failure brought great shame upon the name of an Octarian family, more so if it were a naturally-gifted Octoling instead of a regular male who was failing.

It was also because of this issue that Inkling Scum's presence at the top of the ladder subjected him to the ire of the entire Octoling corps. To not only have a talented male, but a talented male Inkling-!

"…Rouge, 96 percent! Amarillo, 97 percent! Blanc, 97 percent! Lima, 98 percent!"

This guy's stamina was amazing, considering how old he was. Inkling Scum tuned out the droning until the instructor reached the very last few names…

"Gelb, 99 percent! Lila, 100 percent! Inkling Scum, 100 percent!"

The Inkling boy glanced to his right at the only Octarian in the world that he could ever consider his rival—Lila.

She wasn't as good as he was, but she was pretty darn close, all things considered. Lila was one of the best Octolings in their grade, perhaps one of the best in recent history. She was diligent, intelligent, graceful…

And absolutely ruthless on the battlefield.

Yeah, Lila was the incarnation of Octarian ideals. Inkling Scum was definitely the best at battle, but no one could find a more loyal, more motivated, Octarian. It helped that she came from a very prestigious lineage as well; her ancestors were regarded as great heroes, and were very high up in the Octarian caste system.

She regarded him through tinted, metallic goggles. "Is there anything you want to say, Scum?"

The instructor was still talking in the background, discussing what the majority of their classmates needed to do in order to improve, but Inkling Scum ignored the incessant lecturing.

He grinned at her cheekily. "Just that you'll never surpass me."

Her lips twitched erratically, which probably meant she was trying to smile—she had a lot of trouble with that due to her strict upbringing. "One day," she said, "I will be rubbing your face in the dirt, little squid. One day."

This only served to widen his smirk. "Maybe in your dreams, you lousy excuse for an octopus."

They chuckled icily, reveling their private joke.

Yep, they were best friends alright. If Inkling Scum had spoken similarly to any other Octarian, he would have been beaten within an inch of his life.

* * *

Procupine's Explanation Corner; READER DISCRETION ADVISED

* * *

The Octolings in Inkling Scum's class are all named after colors. This is a relatively recent naming fad in Octo Valley; the Octarians had found a multilingual color lexicon from the Old World a few decades ago and put it to use as a book of names. We have evidence that they can understand human writing because some of the sunken scrolls are actually human documents (the contents of which our Inkling player characters can read just as easily as Octarian and Inkling text).

The lowest scoring Octoling in Inkling Scum's class actually hit her target three times out of three, but was unable to score a direct hit on the squid target during some shots. A perfect score would necessitate perfect shots; the center of each shot should be aligned with the center of the target.

In regards to the irony of a weak male Octarian teaching Octolings, it should be noted that male Octarians were first delegated to combat duty near the end of the Great Turf War, to increase the numbers of the losing Octarian would not be an understatement to say that the Octarian forces would have lost way earlier than they had without the support of the males.

On another note, Octarian segways (designed to allow the stubby-legged Octarian males and young children to get around quickly) were repurposed for battle during the Great Turf War, lowering mobility in favor of adding weighty ink tanks and Octoshots (these are now the standard model segways). They are powered by... power orbs.


	2. Chapter 2

Inkling Scum's morning schedule, on days when Training wasn't in session, was traditionally begun with waking up at the crack of dawn, and doing light training from 0430 to 0600. This was followed by a healthy and nutritious breakfast with Father, and doing more light training from 0630 to 0830. After that, he could often be found scouring over the scraps of parchment left behind by primitive life-forms from 0831 to 1020. But regardless of what he did with his time subsequently, Inkling Scum always made sure to take a short break.

Of course, this was not just any 'short break'. From exactly 1021 to exactly 1030, Inkling Scum would take his esteemed "nap-and-snack"—this process, unique to Inkling Scum, consisted of going back to bed (already borderline-blasphemous for any self-respecting Octarian to do before nightfall) and getting a few short winks, preferably with a fruit or some other large morsel lodged in between his lips.

Mere words could not be used to describe how important those ten minutes were to him. It was, without a doubt, the most slovenly thing he ever did in his life; even ever-eccentric Father looked down upon it and said it went far beyond even the behavior of the Inklings. But it was quite possibly the only thing of importance to Inkling Scum; so much so that he would never give it up for the world.

May the Fax have mercy on any who wake the Scum at this time, for those who that are foolish enough to do such a thing will face the almighty wrath of Anger Incarnate. Know and despair at the knowledge that should Inkling Scum be interrupted during this ritual, he will release a latent power like no other—

Well, in truth, he would just get very angry. But woe betide those who incur his wrath. Seriously.

For instance, take our lovely friend here, Lila the Octoling. She is currently trying to wake Inkling Scum as per orders from DJ Octavio…

And is now getting slowly asphyxiated through choking, two furious hands wrapped around her neck.

 **Splatatatatatatatatatasplatoon~**

Inkling Scum's self-defense mechanisms were activated almost immediately after foreign ink was splashed onto his head. He leaped out of his bed with an ease that could only be considered natural by the casual observer, grasped the neck of his assailant with both of his hands, and proceeded to squeeze the life out of the fool who dared to attack him at such an important time. After all, the surprise had caused him to choke on the morsel he was chewing in his sleep, and so the perpetrator must suffer.

"Arrgh! Scum—!"

He knew that voice from somewhere. But how? The only Octarian that sounded this frosty was…

 _Huh._ His eyelids flung themselves fully open to confirm whom he was suffocating. His hands immediately went slack, but he didn't move them in case he would need them in that position later.

"L…ila," he muttered, his eyes filled with progressively dimming feral fury, "What… are… you… doing. Here?"

The Octoling sniffed derisively, smacking his hands away from her throat. "Just making sure that you don't disgrace yourself any further, _Inkling Scum_. DJ Octavio-sama has been asking for your presence in his chambers, and ordered me to bring you to him. I suppose I should count myself lucky; I never would have known that Inklings would fight so hard for their precious laziness."

It was, sometimes, unfortunate for Lila that she was a high-achieving Octarian from a high-caste family. Her ancestors had historically been the secret police of the Octarian DJ, and were trusted by each and every Octarian who had ever taken the position with the most dangerous, skill-intensive tasks requiring fulfillment.

The fact that Octavio had asked her most esteemed mother to wake Inkling Scum was a testament to the danger his naps posed to the Octarian race, and the fact that her most esteemed mother had entrusted such a task to her only further proved that Inkling Scum's rage was a match for the Black-Ops' best talent.

Inkling Scum cautiously moved his hands towards the Octoshot hanging on the nearest wall. "I see, then," he said. "Thank you, _second best_. I wouldn't want to splat you with my eyes closed. After all, I would want to see the look on your face."

It was a jab at her pride as an Octoling; she responded in kind. "Please. You? Kill me? That would never happen. I could overpower you with both arms tied behind my head and my legs twisted into knots."

Inkling Scum smirked at Lila. Lila's mouth twitched slightly.

Then, he pulled his Octoshot off the wall as she pulled her own from its holster, and they did glorious battle while shouting insults at one another.

Yep, they were best friends alright. Not just anybody would put off an invitation from the Octobot King to fight a full-blown turf war in a small and cramped bedroom.

 **Splatatatatatatatatatasplatoon~**

"You called for me, Father?" asked a newly-spawned Inkling Scum.

Father turned around to face him, front arms stuck in their perpetual cross that showcased the deep scar he had been given during the Great War.

"You're late," he rumbled. "What happened?"

It was true. It took three minutes for Inkling Scum to finish his battle with Lila, and another to traverse the web of tunnels connecting his quarters to Father's. "I apologize," he replied. "I had to deal with a surprise attack, which cost me time."

Father was silent for a bit as he easily surmised Inkling Scum's prior activities. He chuffed to himself, his expression softening. "Hmm, I see. I take it that you were victorious?"

"By a small margin."

"Ah, then it must have been that young one who came to wake you, that Li—"

Inkling Scum broke protocol by interrupting him, slightly ticked at the observation. "Forgive me, Father, but what did you call me here to speak about?" he asked.

Father got that gleam in his eye again, which was never good. Whenever he got that gleam in his eye, it meant that he was excited, and whenever he was excited, it meant that Inkling Scum would be somehow suffering for the rest of the day.

Oh well. Those three sessions of afternoon light training would have to wait. Perhaps tomorrow, he would forgo studying the scrolls to get some extra practice in…

 **Splatatatatatatatatatasplatoon~**

Inkling Scum sat in _seiza_ position as he and his foster father listened to the Mood Music blare from the speakers surrounding them.

It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. The beat of Father's Mood Music made him feel weak and feeble, breaking his focus at certain intervals, always giving him a sense of dread.

Father looked at him with an appraising eye, and with some nostalgia in his voice, he said, "Do you see why this is such a powerful weapon, my boy? You're doing fine because you're strong for an Inkling, but when I fought in the War my dubstep track was able to weaken an entire army of enemy soldiers."

"I can imagine," said Inkling Scum, who was beginning to feel queasy.

Mood Music was a special type of weapon—it distorted an ink-body's consistency and density, using the same principles of the Killer Wail not to splat but to weaken and enemy. Inkling Scum had heard about the legendary Mood Music of the Octobot King, which was said to bring even the members of the infamous Squidbeak Splatoon to their knees, but to experience it firsthand…

He was on the verge of fainting when the track faded out. "So, lad. How would you like to learn the skillz got this old man into the Big Leagues?" the DJ asked, getting pumped up. And when he got pumped up…

"Father, you're doing it again."

"Woooooaaaa!" roared the overexcited DJ, "I can't wait! My boy, you're gonna learn how to **DROP SOME SICK BEATS!** "

And with that, a long evening of family bonding began.

* * *

Procupine's Explanation Corner; READER DISCRETION ADVISED

* * *

In this chapter, vocabulary like night and day are used although the Octarians are unable to view a natural sun from the underground caves in which they live. This is because they use artificial light sources (mainly light bulbs) to simulate daylight.

The diety that is worshipped by the Inklings and Octarians alike is a fax machine that one can find depicted in the sunken scrolls and Splatfest announcements. Evidence supporting whether or not the Octarians actually worship this item in the game is, as of the moment of writing, scant.

Octavio's various titles are a bit confusing… his rank is "DJ." In essence it is a king- or dictator-like rank that is only given to the most decorated, powerful Octarian. It is a position held for life. Octavio, by the way, happens to be the first (and so far only) male Octarian to ever be given the title of DJ. His epithet is "Octobot King." It's a very meaningful moniker; his personal Great Octoweapon was legendary even among its bretheren for its ability to use batteries as an alternative power source to A/C outlets. At first, the Octarians thought it to be a useless machine because the batteries only worked for a limited time and limited the effectiveness of the Octoweapon, and if it was plugged in its mobility was restricted be the length of the cord powering it. Octavio was able to use it with extreme efficiency.

As for Mood Music, it is extremely hard to use because it requires the user to fine-tune the sound to build up its otherwise negligible effect on an organism made of ink (or other viscous material). The Killer Wail plays one devastating note, so it can be fine-tuned and mass-produced with few complications, but controlling Mood Music is even harder to do than playing multiple consecutive songs as a one-man band. It requires intense concentration and discipline if you don't have a very good musical ear. All DJs are traditionally taught to play a single, personal track of Mood Music from a young age. Once again, Octavio is an unprecedented DJ because he can put variations on his tune with relative impunity when compared to the DJs of the past, who stuck rigidly to their tunes.

The Squid Sisters are also able to use Mood Music. Its effect in-game causes Octarians to lose control of their legs, which rapidly flail about in a manner akin to dancing. Cuttlefish also dances to it, but his behavior is more eccentricity and grandfatherly pride than Mood Music affectation.


End file.
